


One in Charge

by RenaRoo



Series: RvB Femslash Prompts [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's nice when someone else takes charge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One in Charge

**Author's Note:**

> So this is late for Femslash February but like… at least I wrote it. I tried and therefore no one can hold it against me.

Carolina is still on Chorus. 

All of the tiny worlds’ heroes still are, of course, and each of them has Kimball’s eternal gratitude and respect. But as unique as each one of them is, there’s only _one_ Carolina.

They run into each other still – Kimball and Carolina. Somewhat fate, somewhat the result of walking the same circles, living to the same beat.

They brush shoulders nearly every day and it’s not always a sign of something else.

But as they come together this time, Kimball allows her fingers to linger, Carolina allows her cooled breath to sweep over Kimball’s shoulder.

And they break and smile and walk in different ways that all leads to the same place.

* * *

Kimball’s intensity is spread out among all facets of her life. Carolina thinks she may love that the most. It’s so _strong._

The way her fingers knot in hair. The way her eyes almost don’t blink. The way she rakes teeth against the well of Carolina’s neck.

From the moment they meet after the word go until they’re left shaking and spent, Kimball remains with that intensity. And Carolina gleefully takes it as a challenge to herself to keep up. 

There’s a hand on her thigh so Carolina squeezes one of Kimball’s breasts. There’s nipping and biting and pulling of hair so Carolina pushes and pulls and throws her weight until it’s her on top. and her knees are scratching against the grain of the wood desk. 

It’s passion and it’s struggle and it’s _control_ but that’s what Carolina loves. 

She loves the fight and Kimball is the epitome of a fighter. 

And unlike lost loves before, Carolina can break apart and knead together – maybe because she’s older and wiser, maybe because that sparked desire to control and lead has diminished since overcoming the trials of Freelancer. Though she’s never said a word about it to Kimball (so _rarely_ do they talk about _pasts_ and _could beens,_ and god does Carolina love that, too), somehow the other woman knows.

So Carolina loses control, and is bested by something of a pro. 

While Carolina clumsily rolls a nipple beneath her thumb, Kimball crashes her lips against Carolina’s, invades the Freelancer’s mouth and scrapes teeth against each other, breathes new and foreign life into her. All a distraction for the demonstrative flip, for the sinking of those teeth into the curve of Carolina’s jaw, and the running of those fingers once on Carolina’s lives upward, raking up and down before finding purchase. 

And against her will, held down by breath and teeth and kisses, Carolina sings out. 

Her toes curl and her breath quickens, and Kimball sinks deeper. And there’s happiness for her for the first time in the idea of not being the one in charge. And Carolina thinks she loves that part most of all.


End file.
